


The First Day of the Rest of His Life

by zebraljb



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Future Fic, Hobbies, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: Merlin retires from Kingsman at age 78 and finds it hard to change his ways. He gets up, gets dressed, calls in to the new Merlin to offer his assistance.Until one day he decides to just take it easy.  And after that it gets easier and easier to take it easy.His husband Eggsy is pleased that Merlin is relaxing.  His best friend Harry is alarmed.  Merlin doesn't take it easy.Until now.
Relationships: Merlin/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	The First Day of the Rest of His Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eggsyobsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/gifts).



> I mentioned to Eggsyobsessed that I had the opportunity to go out and do something but preferred to be old and lazy and stay home. She said, "Imagine Merlin the first whole year of retirement. Like he does his usual stuff, once a week coffee and scones with Harry. Gives a hand with the current Merlin at Kingsman, and like one day he's just like...I want to sit home. Cancels his date with Harry, who hobbles his way to Kingsman to tell Eggsy there's something wrong with his husband and then Eggsy finds Merlin just sitting about doing nothing."
> 
> So this was the spark...the fire was a bit different but I thank you for the premise!
> 
> Also, the television programs that Merlin watches are based on American shows...I have no clue what's available on British TV, so Merlin gets what we get. :)

Eggsy reads through the report in front of him, removes his glasses, and looks up at the man standing before his desk. “Could you repeat that last part?”

“W-well, sir, I feel that the mission came quite close to being compromised due to Tristan’s behavior. I hope for the agents to think outside the box, sir, but at times they feel they should be the ones designing the box as well as thinking outside of it.” The young man fidgets and tugs at his waistcoat.

“Nice waistcoat, Colby, by the way. Theo made that for you?”

“Yes, sir.” The young Merlin blushes and tugs at it again. “He said the fabric does wonders for my waistline.”

“It does. Makes you look taller. Theo’s a great bloke, always wanting to make an agent look his best in the field, and he offers the same thing to staff.”

“Yes. He’s quite the gentleman.”

“So you’re wearing a waistcoat made for you by Theo, and your report was read over and edited by the old Merlin.”

“Yes, Arthur, that’s…” Colby turns beet red. “I…I mean…”

“Don’t feel bad. I’m really good at talking in circles…needed it to get around Merlin when I did foolish things as an agent.” Eggsy gives him a warm smile. “So my husband looked over your report?”

“How did you know?”

“Because he made up that line about designing the box when I used to do stupid things in the field.” Eggsy sighs. “I hope he’s not nagging you.”

“Not at all, sir! I actually reach out to him now and then.” Colby studies his shoes, red hair flopping into his face. “I know he’s retired, and technically not Kingsman anymore, but…”

“Hamish McNair will ALWAYS be Kingsman, Colby,” Eggsy says sternly. “He rebuilt this agency from the ground up.”

“I am aware,” Colby whispers.

“Well done, Merlin,” Eggsy says suddenly. “I know that ninety percent of this report is all you, so it doesn’t matter what my husband felt the need to add. As long as he’s not changing any of your data.”

“No, sir, never,” Colby vows.

“And I will have a talk about Tristan and his redesign of the Kingsman box.” Eggsy winks at him. “You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Arthur. Have a good day.”

“You as well.” Eggsy waits for the door to close before touching the side of his glasses. “Hello, babe.”

“Eggsy! Hello, leannan. Ye snuck out without waking me.”

“Of course I did. You need your rest. Especially if you’re going to be assisting my staff from home?” Eggsy leans back in his chair and grins.

“Colby is a good lad, but he needs guidance. I just like to offer him a nudge now and then.”

“You like to be Merlin 1.0. Colby is Merlin 2.0.” Eggsy sighs. “You do realize you’re retired, correct? It’s been almost six months.”

“Aye, I know. I’m doing all sorts of retirement things. Why, just a moment ago Mr. Thunderpaws and I were doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. And then I’m meeting Harry for our usual scones and tea later.”

“Mr. Thunderpaws probably created the crossword puzzle,” Eggsy grumbles. As a retirement gift he’d finally given in and allowed Merlin to get a cat, a black and white nightmare who lives to make Eggsy’s life hell. Merlin, of course, absolutely adores the creature, and the feeling is mutual. Merlin had named him Mr. Thunderpaws, informing Eggsy that he just knows the cat would be brutal if they ever had a mouse in the house. Eggsy secretly thinks it’s because the cat is capable of making more noise than three humans put together.

“Are ye jealous of a cat?”

“Of course not. I just…why don’t you give actual retirement a try, babe? Put your feet up, putter around the house, watch telly.”

“Ye know how I feel about wasting time, Eggsy. We have so little of it. I never had down time when I was Merlin.”

“I know. And it wasn’t good for you. Now you have down time.”

“Yes, and I’m quite busy filling it. So if you’ll excuse me…”

“I love you, Hamish.”

“And I you, Arthur.”

Merlin yawns, rubs at his eyes, and reaches to the nightstand for his glasses. Mr. Thunderpaws yawns as well, stretches, and jumps onto Merlin’s chest. “Bloody hell, Mr. Thunderpaws, ye will kill me one of these days.” Merlin gently shoves him away and taps his glasses. “Good morning, Colby.”

“Good morning, Merlin, sir. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Nae, I just figured I could assist in some way once I’m up and running.”

“Well, thank you, sir, but we have everything under control. It’s been fairly quiet around here.”

“Oh.” Merlin blinks. He’s been checking in with Colby daily since his retirement, and this is the first time he’s had nothing to do. “Did Arthur tell you to tell me that?”

“No, sir,” Colby replies emphatically. “It really is that quiet.”

“Calm before the storm, lad, I’m warning ye,” Merlin says. “Well, have a good day.”

“You as well, sir.”

Merlin sits up and slowly stands, stretching and reaching for the ceiling. He slides into his slippers and pads to the en suite, pulling on his dressing gown once he gets there. He does his morning ablutions and pads back into the bedroom, making a beeline, as usual, for the closet. He paws through his trousers and sighs. He really doesn’t feel like putting them on just yet. He looks down at his dressing gown. It’s clean and his pajamas are covered should anyone suddenly come to the door.

Merlin goes downstairs to find his cat sitting by his food dish. “YES, you selfish creature, I’m getting there.” He starts a pot of tea and fills the cat’s food and water dishes. He then sits down with the newspaper, his tea, and a few pieces of toast. Normally he reads the first three or four pages of the newspaper before dealing with whatever intel Colby has given him. But now, Merlin realizes, he doesn’t have to do that. He’ll just sit and finish the paper. He’ll have plenty of time to get things done later.

He does all the puzzles, reads the footie scores, and even peruses the classified ads before finally closing the paper an hour later. He finishes his tea and realizes how relaxed he feels. No hurry, no need to accomplish anything. He should probably check in with Colby just in case; things do pop up at Kingsman unannounced. But he can do that later. He stands and makes himself one more cup of tea. Mr. Thunderpaws hops down from his chair with a thud and looks up at him in confusion. “Aye, my friend, I am taking it easy this morning,” Merlin informs him. He wanders into the living room and picks up the remote, aimlessly flipping through channels as he sets down his tea.

“But you gotta understand,” a young woman says tearfully. “I don’t KNOW who the Da is!”

“Oh, indeed NOT.” Merlin changes the channel again.

“Welcome our next guest, a man who makes art out of horse droppings!”

“NO.” Merlin changes again.

“We just need to find out where the killer will strike next,” a detective says, slapping his fist into his other palm.

“Oh, I’m sure I will figure it out before YOU do,” Merlin says, settling back onto the sofa. “Ye cannot even tie your tie correctly.”

Merlin is right, of course. Another episode of this detective drama follows, and he figures out the villain within the first fifteen minutes. The third episode is a bit more difficult; the criminal is actually quite crafty. His glasses beep and he touches the side. “Merlin.”

“Hello, Hamish.”

“Harry! Hello. I…oh, that is ridiculous. It is obvious that the young woman working in the lab knows more than the lot of you. Why do ye never listen to her?” Merlin scoffs in disgust.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, apologies, Harry. I am watching this ridiculous program about detectives.” Merlin shakes his head sadly.

“I see. And you prefer to do that over meeting me for tea?”

Merlin glances at the clock in surprise. “Oh, bloody hell. I do apologize, Harry. I completely lost track of time.”

“Well, I’m here at our table, and I’ll wait.”

Merlin looks at his slippers, his dressing gown, and then at Mr. Thunderpaws, who is happily giving himself a bath in Eggsy’s favorite chair. “I’m sorry, Harry, I believe I will just stay home today. I’m incredibly busy.”

“Solving fictional crimes?” Harry asks incredulously.

“Nae…I have a lot to do. Colby needs me. I will meet ye tomorrow.” Merlin touches his glasses before Harry can respond. He then picks up his phone and scrolls around a bit until he finds a program guide for this particular channel. “Two more episodes? Excellent.” He gets up to make another pot of tea.

“I’m home!” Eggsy calls as he enters the house. He sniffs appreciatively and makes his way to the kitchen. “Christ, babe, it smells amazing in here.”

“Thank you.” Merlin smiles over his shoulder. “Give me one second.” He furiously stirs something, turns down the burner, and then comes to kiss him. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did…how about you?” Eggsy flops onto a chair.

“I had a very nice day. I solved five crimes and found this recipe.”

Eggsy stares at him. Merlin LOOKS normal enough. His eyes are lucid and beautiful as always, his face shows no sign of stroke, and his posture is perfect. “Is…is that so.”

“Aye. I was a bit let down when the detective show was done, but apparently they run five shows each day, so I can pick it up tomorrow. And after that program a lovely woman came on who is apparently a chef of some sort, but she has a talk show. The interview was rubbish…why they think we care about actors and their causes I will NEVER know, but the recipe she made looked quite good. I found the recipe and ran out for the ingredients.” Merlin kisses him again. “When you come back down it should be ready.”

“Well, you did have a busy day,” Eggsy says. The idea of Merlin sitting in front of the telly all day is an odd one, but he supposes it could happen.

Eggsy has his daily meeting with Colby the next morning, and he starts it off by saying, “Look, Merlin, I’ve been thinking about my husband. If he’s bothering you, I will speak to him.”

“He’s not,” Colby swears. “I spoke to him yesterday morning and told him, truthfully, that we had nothing for him to help with. Today he didn’t call at all.”

Eggsy stares at him. “He didn’t call?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” Eggsy thinks for a moment. “Very well, let’s get started.”

He breezes through the meeting as quickly as possible, and as soon as Colby’s out the door Eggsy brings up the video feed in every room of their house. He’s shocked to find Merlin still in his pajamas and dressing gown, making sandwiches in the kitchen and talking to Mr. Thunderpaws. “We have just enough time to get this ready before it starts.”

Eggsy touches his glasses. “Good morning, babe.”

“Hello, my love.” Merlin smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Making a few snacks.”

“Sandwiches? At almost nine in the morning?”

“Aye…I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Miss what?”

“ _Criminal Intelligence_. The first program starts at nine, and I dinnae wish to miss anything. I made a pot of tea, and I have these sandwiches.”

“What is _Criminal Intelligence_?”

“An oxymoron, if ye ask me.” Merlin chuckles at his own joke. “It is the detective program I found yesterday. And after it’s over Shelley Parker is on.”

“Shelley Parker?”

“The chef with the talk show,” Merlin explains patiently. “Look, Eggsy, I need to go. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Eggsy blinks in confusion.

This time Merlin at least remembers to cancel with Harry ahead of time, citing issues at home. Harry doesn’t need to know that the issues involved solving crimes and perhaps getting another new recipe. Merlin doesn’t think twice about staying in his dressing gown this time. He’s seventy-eight. He’s earned it.

“So what you’re telling me, Valerie, is that you can brighten up a room simply by brightening up a room?” Shelley Parker chirps to the woman sitting beside her.

“It’s true. So many of us neglect an important part of any room…the windows and window dressings. Be honest…who here enjoys washing windows?” The woman looks out at the audience, who groan as one.

“Aye, it is a hateful chore,” Merlin agrees, glancing at the large windows in their living room.

“But just imagine how much brighter your room could be if your windows were clean and your curtains starched and laundered,” the guest continues.

“Hmmm.” Merlin gets up and investigates the red and gold curtains hanging at the windows. “Ye may be onto something, Valerie.”

“Babe, what are you doing?” 

Merlin jumps a mile into the air. “For God’s sake, lad, dinnae scare me like that. My poor heart can’t take it.” Merlin sits down on the bed.

“Your heart is fine and always will be,” says his stubborn husband, and Merlin has to smile. “What are YOU doing, demon? Get off!” Eggsy shoves at Mr. Thunderpaws, who is frantically rubbing his feet on the bed.

“He does this whenever we change the sheets, ye know that.”

“You’re not supposed to be doing all this work by yourself,” Eggsy says accusingly. “Move. Let me finish it.”

“I’m making the bed, lad, not running a marathon,” Merlin snaps. “I was ironing curtains, and I remembered how nice it is to sleep on freshly ironed sheets.”

Eggsy slowly turns around. “What curtains?”

“The living room curtains. They were horribly dirty and wilted. After I washed the windows I took them down and freshened them up. You’ll see…it looks ten times brighter in there!” Merlin says enthusiastically. “Shelley Parker’s friend Valerie really knows what she’s talking about.”

“You know I don’t like you up on a ladder,” Eggsy says sternly. “But I trust you to be safe. Shelley Parker…” Eggsy shakes his head. “So what about dinner?”

“I thought we’d try Vietnamese tonight, if ye dinnae mind running out for it,” Merlin says, tugging a pillowcase on.

“I’ve been after you for months to try Vietnamese, you said you had enough ethnic food in your life with Chinese and Thai and didn’t need another country putting its nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Well, I ran into Mrs. Snow across the street, and she said her grandson brought over Vietnamese the other night. She especially recommended summer rolls and pho.”

“Sounds great,” Eggsy says with a grin. “Proud of you, babe.”

“She also says a few of the other neighbors get together a few times a week for a bit of socializing…tea and baked goods. I thought perhaps I would join them.”

“Hamish,” Eggsy says in surprise. “I’ve been telling you that for months. Mrs. Snow and Miss Helene and the other neighbors, they’re aces.”

“They are. I suppose I was so worried about my work all the time that I dinnae feel I had time to spend.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Eggsy kisses Merlin’s cheek. He grins as he imagines Merlin sitting with little old ladies drinking tea. That is adorable.

“I have good news,” Merlin announces a week later. “I have been officially accepted.”

“Accepted into what?” Eggsy asks. “Fuck, babe, this stew is amazing!”

“I know. Miss Helene gave me the recipe. The secret is in the herbs,” he says knowingly.

Eggsy shakes his head and smiles fondly. Little things have been creeping into their home that Eggsy never noticed were missing…until now. New recipes. Knickknacks in the bedroom. Freshly laundered curtains. “Well, tell her it’s aces.”

“I will.” Merlin beams proudly, the lines at his eyes only accentuating their beauty.

“So…what secret club are you now a member of? Please tell me you don’t have to do any sort of ridiculous antic to get in,” Eggsy teases. “Can’t see you shimmying up someone’s drainpipe.”

“Really, Eggsy. I am a senior citizen,” Merlin says haughtily. “And these women would never make me do some sort of hazing activity to belong. I have been asked to join their Tuesday Group.”

Merlin pronounces the name with a bit of fanfare and Eggsy does his best to keep from smiling. “That so?”

“Aye. And I am the first man they’ve ever asked.”

“Thought the husbands and other blokes were nice.”

“They are. But Frank has the worst poker face ever, Vernon cheats, and Mr. Healey can’t hear because he refuses to wear his hearing aids.” Merlin smiles proudly. “Mrs. Rosen informed me that she could tell I was intelligent the moment she met me…she could see it in my eyes.”

“Of course she could, you’re fucking brilliant,” Eggsy informs him. “I’m happy for you, babe.”

“I shall have to host eventually…it’s a bit of a round robin thing,” Merlin says. “I’ll let you know when it’s my turn.”

“Don’t care, honest…just glad you’re having friends over.” Eggsy blinks. Merlin’s having friends over.

Eggsy frowns as he deletes a few things and tries again. He’s been rewriting an email to R&D all morning, trying to find a polite way to remind them that just because they have a new Merlin doesn’t mean they have a new budget. A knock on the door has him sighing with relief. “Enter,” he calls, leaning back in his chair. As soon as the door opens he jumps to his feet. “Harry?”

“Good morning, my boy.” Harry hangs his coat on the back of Eggsy’s office door as Eggsy hurries to pour him a cup of tea. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks. Glad to see you, of course.” He smiles as he sees Harry automatically head for the chair behind the desk, changing his course at the last minute toward one of the other chairs. He hooks his cane on the arm of the chair and gracefully sits. He is clad in a dark grey suit and oxfords, every bit of his gleaming white hair perfectly in place. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Eggsy places the tea on his desk.

“I’d like to talk to you about Hamish, Eggsy.”

“Hamish?” Eggsy frowns. “You two have another argument? You know I don’t like getting in the middle of all that…trying to pick sides between my husband and my Da.”

Harry clears his throat and looks touched, as he always does when Eggsy refers to him as a father figure. “Not at all. I’m simply…concerned about him.”

“Go on.”

“He’s…changed. I do understand, I myself went through the upheaval of retirement. You feel unwanted, unnecessary. No longer needed. And the days are so empty…it’s hard to find things to do.”

“Well, Hamish hasn’t had that problem. He continued working with Colby, of course, and he…he does things.”

“I myself eventually found activities appropriate for a man of my age and social standing.” Harry regally sips at his tea. “As you know, I am on boards at the Tate Modern as well as the National History Museum. I also work to raise funds for a few charities in the area.”

“I know, Harry. You have a heart of gold,” Eggsy says sincerely. “Hope I can be like you when I grow up.”

“Stop,” Harry says, although he blushes with pleasure. “I support the symphony, and I attend the theater when I can.” Eggsy nods, still unsure what Harry’s getting at. “Hamish…retirement seems to have addled his brain a bit.”

“What are you on about, Harry?” Eggsy asks with a frown, immediately protective of his brilliant husband.

“I know for a fact that he rarely gets dressed before noon,” Harry says. “He told me so.”

“Not a problem, he’s alone in the house.”

“Mature men such as ourselves do not wander about the house in our pajamas,” Harry informs him. “He plans his day around programs on the telly.”

“Just in the morning,” Eggsy points out. “He spent years without a hobby. So what if he likes to watch crime shows and cooking programs?”

“We used to meet for tea daily. Now I’m lucky if I get him twice a week, and now we absolutely cannot meet on Tuesdays…something about a social club I am not familiar with?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t know about it,” Eggsy says with a grin.

“When we DO meet he talks about recipes and cribbage and crafts. He brought me homemade biscuits in a tin he picked up at an estate sale. He mentioned an interest in crocheting. Crocheting. A man of Hamish’s talents doing needlework!” Harry shakes his head. “And when I saw him last he was in casual trousers and a cardigan.”

“Harry, YOU wear casual trousers and a cardigan.”

“Exactly! He always wears those ridiculously dull jumpers. This cardigan had an argyle pattern on it.”

“Yeah, I know the one. Love that on him.”

Harry sighs in frustration. “You’re not taking this seriously. I do believe something’s wrong.”

“Like I said, he’s picking up a few hobbies. And so what if he wears a cardigan?”

“I think he’s losing his mind,” Harry says solemnly.

Eggsy bites back a smile. “I’ll keep an eye on him, swear down.”

“I don’t want to lose my best friend to insanity, Eggsy.”

“You won’t,” Eggsy promises. 

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is Tuesday,” Merlin tells Eggsy as they climb into bed.

“That’s what usually happens after Monday, babe.” Eggsy leans over and turns off the light.

“Cute.”

“You’re right.” Eggsy scissors his legs a bit. “Freshly ironed sheets do feel good.”

“Aye. And I enjoy ironing. It’s calming.” Merlin leans his head against Eggsy’s shoulder. “Do ye still find me attractive in my old age?”

“What’s that about?” Eggsy asks.

“Well, when I was Merlin, I did things. I achieved things. I saved the world, led agents safely home…now I iron sheets and make biscuits. Now I’m just…old.”

“Babe, you are still the fittest man in every room. Swear down.” Eggsy gives him a thorough kiss. “You aren’t old. You’re…domesticated.”

“I am nae domesticated. Ye make me sound like a bloody pet!”

“Calm down.” Eggsy kisses the top of his head. “You are perfect, Hamish. All I want is for you to be happy…when you’re happy you’re always attractive to me.”

“I love you, my heart.” Merlin snuggles close, tucking his head on Eggsy’s shoulder. “And don’t forget…”

“Tuesday Club. I got it.”

“You do this every time.”

“I do not!”

“Hamish, you know she doesn’t ever wear a blouse like that. She ONLY wears it for this, so she can hide things up the sleeves.”

“Next time I’m hiding a cricket bat up the sleeve, so I can use it on your thick head!”

“Ladies…more tea?”

Eggsy tiptoes into his house, wondering what exactly he’s walking into. He can hear raised voices coming from the kitchen, and he catches sight of Mr. Thunderpaws hiding under the living room coffee table. 

“Yes, thank you, Hamish.”

“Whose deal is it?”

“Yours, Helene. I swear, you get more feeble-minded every week.”

“I swear you get UGLIER every week.”

“Would anyone care for a bit of spark in their tea?”

“Oh, Hamish!” Eggsy hears female giggles. “You are a rogue. But yes, please.”

“Only a drop…I will nae be walking ye home after.”

“Deal, Helene.”

“Hold your knickers on, Tabitha. You know it’s difficult with my arthritis.”

“I’ve been working on an automatic card dealer,” Eggsy hears Merlin say. “I know they exist, but this one can be set to actual angles, so ye can send the cards to each person and not into the middle of the table.”

“You are so smart, Hamish.”

“I do enjoy tinkering, but thank ye, Rosemarie.”

Eggsy decides to make his presence known. He takes a deep breath and steps into the kitchen, staring at the table in shock. Every area possible is full of crisps and candy and biscuits. Each person has a cup of tea in front of them, and Eggsy sees the bottle of Scotch at Merlin’s feet on the floor. Everyone has a pile of chips in front of them, and Eggsy is pleased to see Merlin’s pile is bigger than anyone else’s. “Hello, babe. Ladies.”

“Hello, leannan.” Merlin stands so he can give Eggsy a kiss. “Ladies, I’m sure you all remember my husband, Eggsy Unwin. Eggsy, this is Miss Helene, Mrs. Snow, and Mrs. Rosen.”

“So nice to see you all again,” Eggsy says with a smile. They titter and smile back. “Cribbage?”

Mrs. Rosen snorts. “Really. That’s a game for old women. We’re playing poker and your husband is cleaning our clocks.”

“I suspect he’s counting cards,” Mrs. Snow adds.

“Tabitha, counting cards isn’t illegal,” Miss Helene points out.

“Well, it isn’t polite, that’s for sure,” Mrs. Snow grumbles.

“Babe, you’re not cheating these lovely ladies, are you?” Eggsy asks, piling on the charm.

“It doesn’t matter if he is, because I’ll catch him sooner or later,” Mrs. Rosen says. “I have eyes like a hawk.”

“Like a dead hawk,” Miss Helene mutters.

“Young man, it is lovely to see you, but if you’re not planning on us dealing you in, please get out of the kitchen,” Mrs. Rosen announces.

Eggsy opens his mouth and closes it. Merlin simple smirks and raises his eyebrows. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Nice to see you all.”

“I’ll be making something to eat shortly, I will let ye know when it is ready.” Merlin gives him one more kiss. “All right…let’s see.” He picks up his cards and forgets about Eggsy entirely.

Eggsy wanders upstairs and pulls out his mobile. “Hello, Eggsy. Why didn’t you call me on my glasses.”

“Needed something more…tangible.” Eggsy grasps his mobile tightly. “You were right, Harry.”

“Of course I was, dear boy…but be more specific.”

“He’s…he’s…it’s like he’s a member of some sort of old lady cult.”

Harry chuckles. “I told you.”

“He’s playing poker with three neighbor ladies, and they kicked me out of my own kitchen!”

“Poker? He gave up Tuesdays with me to play poker? Me? I have the best gambling record of any agent,” Harry says angrily. “Poker, Blackjack, Baccarat.”

“Yes, Harry, I know. I don’t think they play EVERY Tuesday.”

“He’s just worried I might embarrass him in front of his new friends,” Harry continues.

“Harry…this isn’t really about you,” Eggsy points out.

“I apologize,” Harry says, but he still sounds angry. “So what are you going to do?”

“What am I going to do? I’m gonna stay out of my damn kitchen.”

“But it’s Saturday.” Eggsy blinks at Merlin. “I’m home for once.”

“And we will spend a lovely evening together. I’ll only be gone for two hours. Fifteen minutes to get there and back, and a ninety minute class.” Merlin glances at his watch. “If Harry would just get his decrepit arse over here on time for once.”

“Class? What kind of class?”

The doorbell rings and Merlin jumps to his feet. “Ah. Here he is.” He goes to the door and opens it. “Harry. Late as usual, which I suppose is the same as saying right on time.” 

Harry looks at Merlin in dismay. “You’re wearing loafers.”

“I am. I like them.” Merlin taps a foot back and forth. “So comfortable.” He kisses a bewildered Eggsy. “I shall be back by three.”

“Harry, what’s going on?”

“We’re taking a quilting class,” Harry says through clenched teeth. “Although I’m quite sure my eyesight is too weak to thread a needle.”

“It was strong enough to see that thug pickpocketing on the Tube last week,” Merlin points out as he pockets his keys and his wallet.

“Hold on.” Eggsy holds up a hand. “Do NOT tell me the two of you went after a pickpocket on the Tube.”

“We did not,” Merlin promises. “I darted him and Harry returned the property to its rightful owner.”

“Bloody hell.” Eggsy wipes a hand over his face before turning to Harry. “And a quilting class? How did he talk you into this?”

Harry clears his throat and stands a bit straighter. “He cheated at a hand of poker.”

“I did not. I won fair and square,” Merlin says with an impish grin.

“I’m disappointed in you,” Eggsy says to Harry.

“Not as disappointed as I am in myself,” Harry grumbles.

“Well, you two gents have fun,” Eggsy says. “Make me something pretty.”

“It’s only the first class but I have an idea for a lovely green pattern that matches your eyes,” Merlin says. He smiles down at Eggsy. “I love you.”

“And I you.” Eggsy sees them out the door, closes it, and leans against it with a laugh. He then goes to his office, opens his computer, and brings up a blank document. “Things I Will Never Do When I Retire,” he types at the top.


End file.
